


That's The Spirit

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, also inexplicably set in england, it's just easier for me to write ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:49:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'til death do us part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's The Spirit

As soon as Jean had finished hanging up his last pair of trousers in his new wardrobe, he fell face forward onto his bed, ready to sleep then and there. He’d spent the morning unpacking boxes in his new flat, settling in to his first life away from his parents. In all honesty, there wasn’t that much to unpack – Jean was a creature of minimal belongings, plus he wasn’t exactly financially bursting, but it had still taken him hours and all of his energy. He was a 19 year old boy, what more did you expect?

Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his phone and dialled the number for the nearest pizza place. Once he’d finished ordering, he grinned and chucked his phone onto the bed before moving into the living room. He flopped onto the sofa and put on the TV – a leaving gift from his parents – flicking the channel to the least shitty thing he could find. He contemplated some documentary on shellfish, but the next channel over had some dumb cartoon, so obviously that’s what he went with.

After 20 minutes of laughing to himself at the cartoon, he heard his phone vibrating faintly from his bedroom. He jumped straight up and ran to his phone, expecting it to be the pizza place. But when he got there, his phone screen was completely blank, in the same position it was before. Frowning, he tapped the home button, but no missed calls or texts appeared. He checked all his apps; there was no reason for his phone to be vibrating. Unnerved, but putting it down to a fault with the two year old phone, he went back into the lounge, this time keeping his phone with him. He flinched as he heard a creak behind him, but of course, there must be a logical explanation. It’s an old apartment building, floorboards were creaky sometimes. He sat back down on the couch and rolled his eyes, what was he thinking? He was just nervous, living alone for the first time.

When his phone vibrated 10 minutes later, he was almost too scared to look at it. But when he did, he saw the screen lit up with ‘Dominoes’ flashing across it. He grinned and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“ _We’re just downstairs mate, can you come and collect the pizza?_ ”

“Sure, how much?”

_“£7.20 all together.”_

“Right, down in a sec.”

As soon as he hung up, he went to his contacts and pulled up another number. Hitting the call button, he held his phone to his ear.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey, Connie, it’s Jean! I just moved into my new flat, was wondering if you fancied coming round? I’ve ordered pizza and there’s a couple of beers in the fridge.”

_“Sounds rad, be round in like 10?”_

“See you then.”

Satisfied, Jean hung up the phone and made his way down to the entrance to get his pizza. He’d be less scared with Connie around, and even when he left – provided he didn’t end up crashing on his couch – after a few drinks and a relaxing evening, he’d be fucking bulletproof. By which I mean, he wouldn’t freak out every time he heard a noise that wasn’t from the TV.

He got downstairs, paid the delivery guy and gave him a tip, then made his way back upstairs. As soon as he went back inside, he knew something was different. Wrong. He just couldn’t quite place it.

Slowly, he edged his way towards the sofa, putting the pizza box on the little table next to it. He went over to the kitchen area, attached to the living room, and got out two plates, beer from the fridge, and some ketchup for the pizza. Like the slob he is, he left the cupboard door open, but made sure to close the fridge. Like fuck he’d let his beer get warm. He got some garlic bread out from the freezer, and set the oven ready to heat it up. This way he could share his pizza with Connie and still have enough to fill him up. Perfect. He sat on the kitchen top, swinging his legs, waiting for the little orange light on the oven to flick off, signalling that it’s ready for the bread. He zoned out, staring at that little light, daydreaming about god knows what. Thinking about his future, thinking about his new life, alone. He was so out of it, he almost didn’t hear the bang coming from behind him as the cupboard door swung shut, slamming hard enough to shake the counters. Almost.

He half jumped, half fell from his perch on the kitchen top, swinging around to stare at the cupboard. There was nothing there. No, there must be, doors don’t just slam themselves, fuck, is there a draft? Jean couldn’t feel a noticeable draft, just a soft chill settled over him. He let out a little scream when he heard the knock on the door. Shit. Just Connie. It’s just Connie, he told himself as he crept to the door, still not tearing his eyes away from the cupboard. He whipped his around at the last second before opening the door, to find his friend standing with a grin on his face, holding a six pack of cider.

“Brought a little something to wash down the beer.”

“Lad.” Jean grinned as he pulled Connie into a half-hug, patting his back, somewhat forgetting about his previous terrors. “Just sit over there and start eating, I’m just making some garlic bread.” He gestured towards the sofa and TV before stepping back into the kitchen section.

“Dude, why are you watching a documentary about crabs?”

“What?” Jean let out a chuckle as he slid the tray into the oven and set the timer before going back over to the couch. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the TV. He’d been watching cartoons, with this show on the next channel. He’d gone for pizza, come back up, and this was on… That’s what had been different when he walked in. But why the fuck had the channel changed? “Ha… nothing better on… I have some DVDs. Let’s watch School Of Rock.”

“Sweet.” Jean put in the DVD, and by the time everything was set up and the movie was starting, he had to go and turn the oven off. He pulled out the garlic bread and put it on the side next to the oven, but just as he was turning to grab another plate, he swore he saw something, just in the corner of his eye, a little flicker. He shot his head back around and swept his eyes across the expanse of his kitchen. Nothing to be seen. Nothing. Jesus, he thought, my nerves are ruining me. Get a grip.

As quickly as he could, he put the bread on the plate and ran back into the living room area, sitting next to Connie. His apparent eagerness earned him a chuckle from the boy next to him who grabbed a slice of the bread.

“Was the running necessary?”

“Yes, I fucking love this film.” Jean kept his eyes fixed on the TV in front of him, refusing to look elsewhere, refusing to let himself notice any more movement. No, all movement was coming from the TV, all noises from the film. There’s nothing like watching Jack Black stagedive naked into an empty crowd to take your mind off things.

One film and too many drinks later, Connie was calling himself a taxi.

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own tonight, bud? First night alone, must be scared,” he teased as he prodded Jean gently in the sides. Forcing a laugh, Jean slapped his hands away and tried to disguise the fact that he was fucking terrified.

“I’ll be fine, loser. But you can always stay if you want…”

“Nah, got work tomorrow, need to be at home with my uniform.” Connie said as he stood up and pulled his coat on, grabbing one of the leftover ciders for when he got home.

“Okay, sure, whatever.” He couldn’t even hide his annoyance, though Connie was a) too oblivious and b) too drunk to notice. “Have fun working with that hangover.”

Connie groaned as he gathered up the rest of his things, and walked towards the door. “Don’t even wanna think about it. I’ll see you soon, okay? And I’ll text you when I get home, so you’re not up all night fearing for my safety.” He snorted with laughter as he closed the door behind him and ran down the stairs to his taxi. Jean didn’t particularly want to admit that it was his own safety he was scared for.

He sat down, and turned the TV off as he cradled his last cider. He screwed up his eyes as the light above him flickered. No. It’s an issue with wiring, Jean, you’re imagining it, Jean. Stop being so fucking pathetic, Jean.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but notice that suddenly things were significantly darker.

He opened an eye slowly.

And then the other.

He was in complete darkness.


End file.
